Of Heaven and Hell
by Lifeguard
Summary: He left heaven for hell and her world was destroyed. What will it take to return to paradise, or will it be lost forever? Can heaven be found through a promise? This story is hopefully a new take on a well known theme.
1. Chapter 1

**Of Heaven and Hell**

_**By Lifeguard**_

_**Rating: **__PG13ish for situations. _

_**Disclaimer: **__I do not own the rights to Bones, or the characters. Suing me would be useless as I owe my soul to student debt. _

_**Author's Note: **__I know this theme/genre of story has been done, a lot, but this plot bunny has been hopping around my head, insisting that I write it down. I hope this story is different from what's out there. I always appreciate reviews and constructive criticism, so don't hesitate to drop me a line! Enjoy! _

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_**Parting is all we know of heaven and all we need of hell.- Emily Dickinson**_

_**________________________________________________________________________**_

He had recognized the crest on the envelope before he had even opened it. Tearing the letter open his eyes scanned the words in disbelief. He read it again and the disbelief turned into shock, then quickly, very quickly, into anger.

He crushed the paper and hurled it across the room.

Pacing, he ran his hand through his hair and muttered a string of curses. He stopped at the ball of paper and glared down at it.

Life was good right now, so of course something had to ruin it.

He bent down and retrieved the wadded letter and tossed it between his hands, weighing his options.

Ignore it and be damned; his career would be over, he would betray his country.

Do what it said and risk his life, risk losing everything he had worked so hard for, and everyone he loved.

Un-crumpling the paper he looked down at the return address. He knew where it had come from all to well.

Grabbing his car keys he set off.

_______________________________________________________________________

He got his counsel and asked his question: why? Why him? Why now? He felt a duty to his country; he would not desert, but why?

His job had betrayed him. His position as a respected agent with a heroic past had made him the most desirable for the job at hand. They told him his country needed him, they told him that other men would depend upon him; they told him they needed a strong leader. They told him that no one else was fit to carry out this mission.

Bitter, but ever the dutiful soldier, he accepted his mission with a heavy heart.

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There was precious little time before his departure, but the night he said he would go he spent in a bar, drinking until he made it home to pass out.

Visions of years past rushed through his head, revisiting the horrors he had witnessed. Yet despite the fear these memories stirred, nothing was more terrifying then his next two tasks.

He had to tell her.

Then he had to leave her.

The mere thought of both tasks felt like a knife through his heart. Both meant that he would betray her and risk losing her forever.

The next evening he left for her apartment wondering how she would react and how he may never live through the pain of hurting her.

________________________________________________________________________

Comfortable and content she sipped at the sweet, fragrant wine again as she snuggled deeper into her couch and under her blanket. Savoring the spirit, she placed the delicate glass on the coffee table and turned her attention back to her laptop. The writer's block that had plagued her earlier was gone and a new idea ran circles in her head, begging to be put down in words. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as her next novel took shape on her screen. As she wrote the first particularly tense scene, a knock at her door jarred her roughly from her thoughts. She swore silently under her breath wondering who was disturbing her peace and quiet.

Grumbling, she left the sanctuary of her couch to get the door, only to come face to face with her partner.

"Booth, hi, what are you doing here?" she exclaimed rather awkwardly.

Brown eyes traveled her body, taking in her attire, which was most definitely not her usual. She wore track pants and a tank top, her hair in a messy ponytail.

"Oh, sorry, did I interrupt something?"

She shook her head slightly, "Just starting my new novel. Do you want to come in?"

As much as he had disturbed her thoughts she was glad to see him. Their last case had been a week ago and they had hardly seen each other since.

A memory of her laughing over dinner at the diner flashed through his mind. Would he ever see that smile again or hear that musical laugh?

"Can I?" he jutted his chin towards her living room.

"Of course."

He followed her in, his eyes roving the apartment, taking in the details.

"Do you want something to drink? I just opened that bottle," she indicated to the wine she had been sipping.

"Sure," he replied, "Thanks."

She wandered into the kitchen to retrieve another glass as he stood in the living room, trying to figure out how to tell her his news.

Coming back she found him standing in the middle of the room looking bewildered and lost. Pouring him a glass of wine she handed it to him, raising her eyebrow at the same time in silent question.

Sitting on the couch she gestured to him, "Sit down Booth."

Sighing, he took a seat on the edge of the couch and faced her. Her blue eyes bore into his, her eyebrow still arched in question.

"What's wrong? You seem agitated about something."

There was no easy way to break the news to her. Slowly, he pulled the crumpled envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her.

"What's this…" her question trailed off as her eyes fell on the crest. Quickly she took out the letter and read the page. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped into a tiny circle as the words took on meaning. Her expression failed to change as she held tightly onto the piece of paper, reading the official words.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth, you have been requested to head up an important black ops mission in Iraq. Your skills and expertise are required for this important duty to your country. You are requested to report for duty on…"

Lowering it from her face, her gaze fell upon him and he finished, "Tomorrow night."

Her eyes flew from her partner to the letter and back again, "But how can they do this to you? You're not enlisted. Don't they know you have an important job serving your country here?"

"They do know that and my position in the FBI, that's part of the reason why they want me, for my experience," he said the last word harshly.

Booth was to be the leader of the black ops sniper mission in Iraq. He had been briefed the day before on his dangerous quest.

The anger was evident in her voice as she spoke again, "You mean the government can just _request_ that you ship off to Iraq? Why you? Weren't there other men to choose from?"

"They have their reasons for choosing me," he chose his words carefully, he couldn't tell her everything, "I'm sure there were others, but they made their decision. I've already tried to appeal, but it takes a damn good reason for them to let you go. Look what they did to Zack."

A pained expression crossed her face at the mention of her former assistant, "This isn't fair Booth," she said quietly.

He gently took the letter from her hand, "Well, I'll only be gone for a few weeks. Hopefully whatever it is they want me to do won't take that long."

A few weeks, this to him would feel like an eternity.

"Have you told anyone else? Have you had a chance to speak to your brother or tell Parker?"

Booth nodded, "I talked to my brother this morning, he's not happy about this either. If he hadn't been discharged he said he would re-enlist with me. I said I'd kick his ass if he did."

She smiled slightly at his words, knowing how much he cared for his brother.

"I saw Rebecca and Parker this afternoon," his voice got softer, "I told Parker I'd only be gone awhile and that I'd call him when I'm there. I don't want to scare him too much, plus I don't want him to understand what I'm doing."

He knew he never wanted his son to understand the horrors of what he had been through at war.

"I arranged a few other things today, and then I came to see you," he finished.

Telling her, saying goodbye to her had to be last on his list, it was truly the hardest.

Her eyes had fallen to the couch, she didn't look at him when she spoke, "Do you want to go?"

"No," he breathed the answer, "No, I don't want to go back. I saw too many things when I was there, too many terrible things, and I did terrible things," he talked freely now, standing up to pace, "I don't want to do it again; I don't want to take lives any more. I want nothing more than to stay here, to solve cases and bring some justice into the world in a good way. No, it's not fair at all Bones."

He stood, staring at her, wondering if she understood that he wanted to stay with her above all else.

She rose and stood before him, placing her hand on his, her voice was no more than a whisper, "Are you scared?"

Squeezing her hand he lowered his head and his defense, "Terrified."

Her other hand brushed his arm, encouraging him to continue.

"I'm scared Bones, scared of becoming the man I was when I was a sniper. I'm scared of having to feel numb when I take a life, scared of the nightmares afterwards. I'm scared that I'll loose one of my men, like Teddy, and I'm scared I'll never get over it. But overall, I'm terrified that I'll come back changed, that nothing will be the same…if I even come back at all."

They had moved closer to each other and she lowered her head so her forehead rested on his. She blinked back her tears but her voice betrayed her, "I'm scared too Booth."

Strong arms embraced her and she burrowed her head in the crook of his neck.

"I don't want to loose you," her muffled words came softly to his ear.

He could feel her warm tears soak into his shirt; a few of his own fell into her hair. He held her tightly and prayed he would get to hold her again in the future.

Gently, he pulled her away so he could see her face. With his thumbs he wiped the tears from her face.

"Listen to me," he stroked her cheeks, "I promise I'll come home," his lips brushed her forehead lightly, "to you."

She wanted to protest, to say that he couldn't promise anything, but she also wanted to believe him, to take that promise and hold onto it, to make it real. Instead of telling him he could promise her nothing, she closed the distance between them and laid her lips on his, sealing the promise.

He responded and the kiss deepened. She clutched at the front of his shirt, pulling him to her, never wanting to let him go. He tangled one hand in her hair at the base of her neck; the other grasped at her waist, wanting her to be closer, if that was at all possible.

There was no more talking, just the passion that had erupted, spilled over after years of boiling just under the surface.

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In the soft glow of the morning light she lay on his chest lost in a dream. They had never made it to the bedroom, but neither had objected to the couch. Booth was awake, watching his partner asleep on his chest, basking in her warmth, in the feel of her heartbeat above his own. He marveled at the contrast between her dark hair, lying across her shoulders and the creamy, silky, skin underneath it.

If hell was his mission, then this had to be heaven.

Yet this paradise would be destroyed in a few short hours. He would betray her with what she couldn't know. Would she ever forgive him? He tried to push the thought from his mind, tried to enjoy the moment he was living now. If he was lucky, if by some miracle all went well, maybe she would forgive him when he returned and he could return to this paradise.

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They had spent the drive to the airport in near silence, yet her hand had lay on his arm the entire time, as if letting go meant losing him before he even stepped on the plane. To him, her small hand was an anchor to the life he was about to leave. When they got there, they continued to hold onto each other.

Hand in hand they took the final steps to where they would part.

Booth stopped and placed his bag on the ground. He reached into the uniform's jacket, the piece of clothing they both hated, and produced an envelope.

"Would you give this to the team?" he placed it in her hands, she noticed it was labeled 'To the Squints.'

"Tell them I wanted to say goodbye in person but…" he trailed off. He had spent his remaining hours with her and he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

"They'll understand," she said simply.

Booth brushed an errant strand of hair off her face, "Will you do me a favour?"

She nodded.

"I know I won't be gone too long, but will you look in on Parker for me, you know, go visit him?"

"Of course," her gaze fell to the ground and he could see her trying to blink back tears, "It will only be a few weeks, right?" her voice was heavy with emotion.

He lifted her chin gently so his brown eyes met her blue ones, "Only a few weeks," he repeated, his own voice low.

"Promise me Booth," she whispered, "Promise me you'll come back."

Leaning in he kissed her, savoring the softness of her lips. When he pulled away he breathed, "I promise."

Bending down, he retrieved his bag from the floor. She knew he had to go but she couldn't let go of his hand. Booth began to walk away, their hands still linked until they reached the end of their lengths. He raised her slender fingers to his lips and kissed them as she finally let go.

Then he was gone.

_______________________________________________________________________

It was a clear night and she sat in her car, watching the planes ascend into the darkened sky. With each plane that disappeared more tears descended down her cheeks. She knew it wasn't rational, that she would see him again soon, but she felt like she was losing him forever. She sat there, she didn't know for how long, watching the sky, wishing with all her heart that he would keep his promise to her.

________________________________________________________________________

In the dim light of the plane his head rested against the side of the window, his gaze locked on the dark sky. He had promised to come home to her, but at what cost? Would she still want him when he broke his other promise to her? The stars sparkled in the night sky and he wished for the strength to make it home to her and he wished for her own strength, that she would make it through what was still to come.

________________________________________________________________________

**One Week Later**

"How are you holding up Sweetie?"

Her best friend's voice broke the silence of the office. Angela wandered in as the anthropologist hit the refresh button on her computer, again. The artist knew what was wrong.

"He probably hasn't had time to e-mail you yet."

"Booth said he would today," she hadn't heard from him since he had arrived at his first destination. He had said his computer time was limited, but assured her of the next date that he would contact her.

"Well, it's only," Angela checked her watch, "three o'clock. He's still got loads of time."

With a resigned sigh, Brennan closed her e-mail, "True," she muttered.

The artist smiled at her friend, "Why don't you and I go out for dinner tonight Brenn?"

In the last week, the anthropologist had thrown herself into her work, spending nearly all her time at the lab. Angela wanted to make sure her friend was still eating and at least left now and then.

"Ange, I've got to finish identifying the…"

"The skeleton that's been in limbo for years? He can wait till tomorrow Sweetie. Come out tonight, we'll have fun."

"Maybe, I do need to get out, try to take my mind of waiting."

"Yes, yes you do!"

"Alright, I'll come."

"Good, I'll come drag you out of here in a few hours then."

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**Two Weeks Later**

Agitated, she paced her apartment, glaring at the phone for the hundredth time that evening.

"He'll call," she mumbled again to reassure herself.

She was worried sick about her partner. The contact had been limited, his internet and phone time rationed. She had received only one e-mail and one phone call since Booth had made it to Iraq. In his last email he had told her he would call her at home, tonight.

The phone barely rang once before she pounced on it.

"Hello?" she said breathlessly into the receiver.

"Hi Bones," he greeted her from far away.

"Hi Booth," she said and then took a deep breath, "How are you?"

"I'm okay. How are things at the lab? Am I missing any good cases?"

She briefly told him about the new case, "I'm working with Agent Perrotta again," she added.

"Are you driving her crazy yet?" he joked.

"She doesn't seem to annoyed with me yet," Brennan smiled into the receiver, "Have you talked to Parker lately?"

"I just got off the phone with him. He said you took him for ice cream the other day, thanks Bones."

"He misses you Booth," she paused, "So do I."

"I miss you too Bones."

"Are you coming home soon?" she asked. Booth hardly spoke about his mission, especially not about when it would be over.

He was silent for a few moments before he answered, "I can't say," he was choosing his words carefully, "but you know I'll be back the minute we're done here."

Brennan noticed that he seemed distant tonight, "Is something wrong Booth?"

Again, he paused before answering, "No, I'm fine Bones."

"Really?"

He sighed, "We've got a lot to do here and I don't want to do a lot of it, that's really all I can tell you. I just," he stopped the started again, "Bones, I just really wish I could come home, to be with you."

"You're coming home Booth, I'll be here."

"I know, just, promise that you'll wait for me?" there was a hint of sadness in his voice.

"You know I will Booth, I promise."

"This is going to be the last time I can talk to you for awhile now Bones, I can't tell you why, but just know that I'm thinking about you," he took a breath, "that you're in my heart Bones. Remember that, okay, and wait for me."

There was a lump in her throat, something was wrong, she knew it, but he couldn't tell her. She did the only thing she knew would help and answered, "I'll remember."

"I have to go now," he said quietly.

"Come home soon."

"I'll try."

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**Three Days Later**

On the platform the team was attempting to identify the remains of their latest case. Brennan circled the steel slab that held the bones, her critical eye appraising the injuries.

She was dictating her findings to Agent Perrotta who was scribbling the findings on a note pad.

"Angela, will you check the dental records for our victim?" Brennan asked her friend.

"Sure Sweetie."

Hodgins approached the body, "Can I take some samples now?"

"Please do," answered the anthropologist.

Brennan was about to launch into a theory when someone swiped their card on the stairs.

"Dr. Brennan," a security guard called her, "There are two gentlemen who wish to speak with you."

She gave him an annoyed look, "Can it wait?"

Cam, who had been observing the team, glanced down the stairs towards the glass doors of the lab. She spotted the two gentlemen and her heart leapt to her throat.

"Dr. Brennan, I don't think this should wait," she said.

The security guard nodded his head in agreement. Finally, Brennan pulled her head away from the remains and snapped off her gloves. By now the whole team was walking towards the stairs and had spotted the men Cam had seen.

Approaching the stairs Brennan took in the two men standing at the bottom. They were dressed in formal military attire and one held a red, white and blue bundle in his arms.

The anthropologist glanced back at her team who were all in staring at the men. Cam was shaking her head back and forth, her eyes wide with shock. Angela had gripped onto Hodgins arm and Agent Perrotta stood frozen at the top of the stairs.

"Can I help you?" Brennan asked the soldier.

"Are you Dr. Temperance Brennan?"

"Yes."

"Dr. Brennan, I'm sorry to inform you that Special Agent Seeley Booth was killed during a mission yesterday."

The other soldier held out a folded up flag adding, "We're very sorry for your loss."

On top of the flag lay dog tags, smudged with dirt. As if in slow motion her eyes went from one soldier to the other and finally rested on the tags. She picked them up and rubbed her thumb over the inscriptions on them. Booth was the name she made out.

"No," she whispered, her hands clutching at the tags.

Wide blue eyes flew to the first soldier, "No…he's not…" she couldn't bring herself to say it, "I just talked to him a few days ago….no…"

"We're very sorry Ma'am. If it helps, he died a hero," tried the second soldier.

"How?" the word was barely audible.

"A bomb Ma'am. He was clearing a building when it happened; we think it was rigged as a trap."

"They'll be sending him home tomorrow to be buried."

The words of the soldiers seemed far away to her. They filtered in slowly, their faces were hazy. _Sorry, bomb, buried…_the words floated to her ears as Booth's smiling face took shape in her mind.

_Booth was dead. _

She didn't feel her knees give out or hear her friends rush to her side. She wasn't aware of the soldier's strong arms grabbing hers before she hit the ground.

The world went black.

_**To be continued…**_

_**Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note: **__Thank-you so much for the wonderful reviews and alerts! _

_Just want to clear a few things up that I thought of: This piece takes place before Booth's brain injury but after he was shot (so he's already faked his death once). The original promise he made to Bones was that he would never betray her, that's the first promise I refer to. _

_Sound good? Here comes the next chapter, enjoy! _

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**Iraq**

**One Day Earlier…**

"Are you ready soldier?"

In his mind he was thousands of miles away, lost in the paradise of imagining his partner in his arms. Opening his eyes they trailed down to the picture in his hand for the thousandth time in the last few weeks. _Bones, his Bones, _smiled up at him, her bright blue eyes shining.

"Booth?"

Crashing back to reality he tore his gaze from the picture to face his superior. The older man's face was lined and bronzed from the sun. His short cropped white hair stood out from the darkened scalp underneath.

"Who is she?" there was a hint of a southern accent in his voice.

"My partner, Sir."

"She's pretty," he commented, then his switched back to business, "Are you ready?"

"Yes Sir," came the lie.

He would never be ready for this. In a few short hours he would destroy his life and hers for the sake of his country. How could anyone ask if he was ready?

Booth sensed his comrades take their places around him. There were three of them all together taking on this mission, a top secret black ops mission that asked too much of them.

Williams had a wife, two kids and a dog, the all American family. Trent had a fiancé and two younger brothers in the army as well. What would this do to their lives?

"Gentlemen," began their superior, "In one hour's time you will drive up to destination 'x' marked on the map provided. It is a building we formally scoured for insurgents and information. Your mission, as known to the rest of the unit, is to search the building once again. Last night your dog tags and some equipment were placed inside this building. When you pull up today, you are to walk through the building, you will have one full minute to get out the back door and hide yourselves before the explosives go off. Wait in your pre-determined hiding spots for our vehicles to come pick you up. Remember, after the building has been destroyed, you will officially be listed as killed in battle," he paused, looking up at each man, "You will be unable to contact family or friends until the next phase of our division's mission has been completed," his voice took on a harsher tone, "It is absolutely crucial that no one either here or back home knows you're alive as it will be a matter of national security. Do you understand?"

"Sir, yes, sir," the three answered in unison.

Booth understood exactly what he was getting into. The mission he was on required such high security that Williams, Trent and Booth would need to fake their own deaths. No one could know they were alive as the people they hoped to capture had contacts in the USA. It would be highly dangerous to their loved ones if the enemy was to find out who they were. Booth also understood that by taking on this mission he risked his own life and Brennan's trust. He would betray her, the one thing he had promised he would never do. He hoped she would understand.

"Gentlemen, your truck is ready. Good luck," finished their superior.

Taking a deep breath, Booth began his march towards the truck to start his trek through hell.

________________________________________________________________________

**Washington, D.C.**

Bits and pieces of her office began to swim before her as she slowly opened her eyes.

"Oh thank God Sweetie, are you alright?" Angela said, appearing beside her.

The artist's eyes were red and there were tear tracks on her cheeks. Brennan propped herself on a pillow and looked around. The rest of the team was also in her office, regarding her with worried faces.

"What happened?"

"You fainted…" Angela answered, though not saying why.

In an instant it all came back to Brennan. The soldiers, the flag, the dog tags:

_Booth was dead. _

Brennan put her head in her hands, _it couldn't be true. _

"How are you feeling Brenn?"

It was as if the team was waiting for her to do something, but what? Fall apart? Sob? They were staring at her.

"I'm fine," came her flat reply.

Swinging her legs over the side of the couch she sat up, "I'm going to finish identifying our victim."

The team continued to gape at her as she stood up and made towards her office door.

Cam was standing in the door way, clutching a tissue and appeared to be very upset.

"Dr. Brennan, I think it might be best if you took the rest of the day off," she stopped her co-worker, "In fact, everybody should just go home."

Brennan barely acknowledged the comment, "No, the victim needs to be identified. I'm staying," she replied while brushing past Cam on her way to the platform.

Hodgins observed the whole interaction, his mouth hanging agape, "Do we go after her?"

"I don't know if she'll listen to any of us right now. Jack, call Sweets, I'll go try and talk to her," Angela instructed him.

The artist climbed the stairs of the platform and stood at the top. Brennan was back at work hovering over the remains. Angela could see her friend's face contorted in concentration, obviously trying to push away any thoughts of what she had just been told.

Angela approached her cautiously, "Brenn, I think you should go…"

"Did you start the dental records search yet?" the anthropologist cut her off.

"Sweetie, we're all going to leave. None of us can work this case right now."

"I can."

"This isn't something you just repress Brenn, you need to deal with this."

"If you're not going to help me then have Hodgins work on the particulates and I'll run the dentals myself," her reply was harsh.

"No Sweetie, he's going home too."

Brennan's sharp gaze fell on Angela, "Then leave me alone."

Realizing there was nothing she could do at the moment the artist turned her back on her friend and made her way back to the others, tears streaming down her face.

It took Sweets another fifteen minutes to arrive. He found the team converged at the bottom of the platform in silent mourning. Above them, Dr. Brennan continued her work.

"It's really true then…" the psychologist greeted them somberly.

Hodgins gestured to Brennan, "Except she won't acknowledge it."

"Denial," Sweets' voice cracked on the word, "It's the first stage. It happened last time when Bo-…." he stopped, the lump in his throat blocking his words. Sweets hung his head and Angela came over to embrace him.

"What do we do? How long can denial last?" she asked when she pulled away from him.

He cleared his throat, "I can't say, it's different for everyone. I don't think she should be alone though, sooner or later it's going to hit her."

"Why doesn't everyone just go then, I'll stay with her," Angela told the group.

"Thanks Angela," Cam laid a hand on her shoulder, "I'm going to call Jared."

"Do you want me to stay?" Sweets asked.

"No, you can go."

"You can join me if you want, I'm heading out for a drink," Hodgins offered.

"That's not a bad idea," answered the psychologist.

________________________________________________________________________

Slumped in a chair, Angela watched her friend work tirelessly through the afternoon and into the evening. Brennan was fully absorbed in her job and hardly acknowledged the artist's presence.

As it grew later a grumbling could be heard from Angela's stomach and finally she spoke up.

"Brenn, why don't we go home and grab something to eat, I'm starving," she said gently.

"I'm fine."

"You skipped lunch. Besides, it's getting late."

"I've got to type up these reports and then maybe I'll go."

Before Angela could protest Brennan was on her way towards her office. She quickly followed wondering if the anthropologist would ever leave the lab.

Entering the office, Angela nearly ran into Brennan as she stopped dead, her eyes transfixed on her desk.

The folded up flag and dog tags sat neatly by her computer.

As if in a dream like state, Brennan drifted towards the objects and lightly ran her fingers over the flag. She picked up the dog tags and ran her fingers over the engraved name on them. Sucking in a breath, Brennan closed her eyes as she gripped the tags. Her breaths became shorter and her lower lip began to shake. She was trembling as Angela came to her side and placed an arm around her.

"Oh Sweetie…" Angela whispered as Brennan turned in her arms and began to sob.

____________________________________________________________________

She was in a trance. She couldn't remember the drive home or what she had been fed. Somehow she ended up in her bed, lying still, staring at the wall. Sleep finally came and she drifted into a dreamless night. When she awoke there was no light, no colour, no sound, just the emptiness she felt.

He was gone, or so they told her. Yet she had spoken to him just days before, heard his voice, his promise. How could he be gone?

In her mind she lived in those days before, she could still hear her name on his lips. She held fast to the promise he made her.

He wasn't gone. It didn't happen, or so she told herself.

Booting up her laptop she grabbed the files from the latest case, settled herself against the pillows and set to work.

The clinical detachment of work and the refuge it provided her beckoned.

________________________________________________________________________

A soft knock from her bedroom door made her glance up briefly as Angela stuck her head in the room.

"Hi Sweetie, what are you doing?"

"I'm finishing this report for the case."

"You didn't eat," she gestured to the tray, pushed to the side of the bed with Brennan's breakfast still on it.

"I wasn't hungry." _Food had no taste, what was the point of eating?_

"Brenn, you do know where we're going this afternoon, right?" The question was hesitant.

"I don't know, but I'll be heading to the lab."

"No, you're coming with Hodgins and I. He'll be here in a few hours."

"Are you going to work?"

"No."

"Then I'm not coming."

The artist came to perch on the edge of the bed. She reached out for Brennan's hand but it was quickly pulled away.

Angela sighed, "Sweetie, the funeral is this afternoon. You need to come."

_How many hours had passed since she had fallen asleep? _

"I'm not going," she spat out the answer.

"I know, funeral's are a public display of mourning and you want no part of it. You did this last time, but you need to come, because this time…this time is different."

"What could possibly be different this time?" she was becoming agitated.

"This time you need to say goodbye. You'll never have closure if you don't come."

"I don't need closure."

_She didn't want closure. She didn't want it to be final. _

This time Angela succeeded in getting her friend's hand, "You do need closure. Trust me, you need to be there."

_If she went would Booth appear again? Would he smile at her after he took down a criminal? _

Brennan wouldn't look at her friend, didn't answer.

"Listen, I'm going to lay out some clothes for you and then I'll leave you alone. Hodgins will be here at two, so if you're coming, be ready then, okay?"

The artist was done fighting with her. Brennan nodded and turned her attention back to the report while Angela rifled through her closet. When she was done hanging clothes on the door Angela turned back to Brennan.

"The whole team's going to be there, we need you with us. We need to do this together Brenn, just remember that."

Quietly closing the door, Angela left her friend with that last remark.

________________________________________________________________________

At two o'clock, dressed in a black suit, Hodgins arrived. He hugged his ex-fiancé as she let him into the apartment.

"How's Dr. B?"

"Still in denial. She's been working on reports all day."

"Is she coming with us?"

Angela was about to answer when Brennan's bedroom door opened and she stepped out.

Wearing a simple black jacket and skirt, her hair down, she walked over to them.

"I'm coming."

_**To be continued…**_

_**Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know! **_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's Note: **__Thanks again for the kind reviews! Now I'm not well versed when it comes to military funerals so please forgive any errors I may have made. _

_Enjoy the next chapter! _

______________________________________________________________________

Rows of white grave markers were reflected on the windows of the limo as it drove through Arlington National Cemetery. Across from her Jared Booth poured himself a glass of hard liqueur. He held the bottle out to her and she shook her head no. Jared sipped at his glass as he stared blankly out the window. A few moments later the black car pulled to a stop and he downed the rest of his drink as Hodgins exited the limo. Jared followed and then reached for Brennan's hand. Stepping out into the light she glared at the sun that dared to shine in the perfect blue sky then turned her gaze back to the ground. She felt Jared take her arm and she walked forward with him. He led her down the aisle between the rows of black chairs and black clad mourners whose eyes she could feel on her. People murmured quietly, she knew some were talking about her; her own eyes never looked up.

The aisle ended and Jared paused, his hand suddenly tightening on her arm. From somewhere behind her she could hear Angela crying and hear a quick intake of breath which she assumed came from Cam. Raising her eyes slowly she took in the sight before her.

At first glance the set up seemed very similar to the fake funeral. Red and white flowers adorned the site around a small empty table. The coffin hadn't been brought in yet.

_This isn't real, _she thought.

She was being led now to her seat which was between Jared and Angela. Caroline Julian was not far away, dabbing at her eyes. Along another row sat Rebecca but Parker was no where to be found. Perhaps his mother hadn't told him yet. The team was in her row, behind them other FBI agents. An elderly priest sat a few feet in front of her.

It was a few moments before the priest stood and the mourners rose. Soldiers in full military dress uniform were walking down the aisle surrounding one man who held a small box in his hands.

Brennan glanced around. This couldn't be the right funeral, where was the coffin?

As the soldiers came to the front they stopped, placing the box on the small table and draping it with the American flag. Her view was obscured until they moved and she realized why no coffin was in sight.

The box was a shiny metal, engraved with a name she knew far too well. There was no body. In her mind she could see the contents of the urn, grey dust with nothing but fragments of the man the dust had come from.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she felt a cold chill run the length of her spine. For a moment she thought she might pass out. Jared's strong arm wrapped around her and he rubbed gently at her shoulder. Angela's fingers found hers and took the other side, her grasp tight.

Someone began to talk and she realized it was the priest. The words seemed far away, she felt like she was becoming detached from her own body. Words droned on, she heard nothing; she stared straight ahead, not seeing anything.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…"

That phrase caught her ears and a wave of nausea hit her hard. She leaned on Jared as she swallowed past the lump that had formed in her throat.

He was gone, reduced to nothing more than the ashes before her. Suddenly her mind conjured pictures of an explosion, of him flying backwards with the heat burning his flesh.

_Booth was dead. _

The soldiers were moving forward again, removing the flag, the flag they had brought her, from the urn folding it up again. To her right the safety clicked off a gun as it was cocked and she whipped around at the noise. They fired and she jumped, her gaze flying wildly over each man, searching for a face she knew.

_Booth was dead. _

The guns rang out again, her heart stopped with each shot. No one sprang forward to stop the madness, to smile at her, to receive her punch. Her face went pale, her body numb.

_Booth was dead. _

Soldiers moved towards her bearing the folded up flag and as quickly as the shock had hit her, a new emotion took over.

"No!" she yelled as the shots rang out and the soldiers stopped in front of her, "No!" she yelled again, her face flushing red with anger.

The young soldiers held out the flag to her, "Stop! You did this to him! He's gone because of you!"

The soldiers in front of her morphed into the superiors of the military in her mind, the ones who had sent Booth to his death.

"This," she waved her arms at the guns, at the soldiers, "is why he's gone! He died for his country and does anyone even care?!" she screamed.

"Tempy," Jared hissed her name as he gave the soldiers an apologetic look, "Tempy, stop."

"Let go of me!" she wrenched her arm from his grip, "Let me go!"

She pushed away from Jared, from Angela, from her friends and stormed up the aisle, the hot tears blinding her.

_Booth was dead. _

Swiping at her eyes she increased her pace wanting to distance herself from the funeral, from everything. She ran through the markers, the salty tears now streaming down her face.

_Booth was dead. _

Her breathing was heavy, her chest heaved and she couldn't run any more. She stopped abruptly to lean against a tree, surrounded by the white grave stones.

Something registered in her mind and she felt like the breath had been knocked out of her. The tree she touched was the same she had stood under when Booth had visited Teddy Parker's grave. The young soldier's marker lay far ahead of her but she could clearly see Booth, safe from the gravedigger, walking towards it.

She couldn't breathe and she choked on the air as the sobs racked her body.

_Booth was dead. _

Falling to her knees at the base of the tree she cried, letting the emotions take over.

_He had left her, he was gone. _

Footsteps approached her but she didn't look up to see who it was, she didn't care.

Black clad arms were holding her own, pulling her up to a warm chest. He held her as she collapsed into him, his own tears dropping into her hair.

"He…he promised….promised he'd…come home," she stopped and started between sobs.

A large hand rubbed circles on her back, not answering, it's owner to overcome with his own grief.

"Why…" Brennan breathed, "Why?"

"I don't know," came the whisper from Jared Booth.

_______________________________________________________________________

**48 Hours Later**

There were dark circles under her blood shot eyes and she wore no make up. She could not remember the last time she had felt so mentally and physically drained. In short, Angela was emotionally exhausted. When she opened the door, the young psychologist saw all of this immediately.

"Hey Sweets," she let him into the apartment and took another sip of the wine she had found in Brennan's fridge.

"How is she?" his concerned gaze fell on the closed bedroom door.

Angela huffed, "Not good, pretty much in a zombie state since the funeral."

"She's grieving, in her own way. It's good that she's expressing these emotions, even if anger wasn't exactly appropriate at the funeral."

"I've never seen her this way though. I expected the emotional break down that day, but now, she's almost scaring me. She sleeps all day or just stares at the wall. She'll eat if I bring her food, but half the time she won't keep it down. She lays there in the dark all day, won't acknowledge anyone or talk. Sweets, I'm really worried."

"Angela, I know you are, but think about what she has lost. Booth was a huge part of her life, a person she let behind her walls. I think the loss of Booth is on the same scale as her parents abandoning her, if not even more significant. She needs time to grieve."

"We all need time to grieve; this was huge for all of us."

The younger man nodded in agreement and they sat in silence for a few moments.

"Do you think she'll ever be the same?" Angela spoke quietly.

Sweets met her gaze, "No, no I don't."

"What can we do?"

"All we can do is give her time. I can't say how long she'll stay in her room or what she'll be like when she comes out, but I know she'll have changed."

"She'll put up her walls again."

"And they may never come back down."

________________________________________________________________________

She had seen many awful things in her life. She had stood in mass graves, seen the destruction and effects of genocide and war. She had identified victims murdered in the most horrific ways imaginable and looked their killers in the face. She had done the gut wrenching task of solving children's murders and been abused as a teen herself. Her parents had abandoned her. All of these things she came to equate with hell, but none of them hurt as much as this.

This, knowing that Booth was dead, was hell.

She felt empty inside, drained and lost. Even the rational side of her did not give a reason to get up off the bed.

Her friends had brought her home from the funeral and she had gone directly to bed. Since then she had no idea how much time had passed. Angela came in to check on her or bring her food. She ate, she knew she had to, but she could care less what she was fed. More often than not she would be sick after eating, but she felt sick all the time. Life as she knew it had ceased to go on, would it ever again?

This truly was hell.

________________________________________________________________________

The sun rose and set, the only evidence being the small rays that peaked their way through her curtains. She would turn over and wait for night to come again or fall back to sleep.

Days or weeks could have gone by and she wouldn't have known, would not have cared.

She wasn't sure what the day was or what time it was when her father entered her bedroom.

"Temperance?" he stood in the doorway waiting for an acknowledgement that never came.

Max walked further into the room and then perched himself on the end of the bed.

"Honey, talk to me."

Still no answer came.

"I'm sorry this happened Tempy. Booth was a good man."

The sound of the name caused her to bury her face in the pillow. It stabbed her like a knife.

"He didn't deserve this, you didn't deserve this, but it happened. Believe it or not, I know what you're feeling."

Slowly she pulled her head from the pillow and her empty blue eyes rested on her father.

"How can you possibly know what I'm feeling?" her voice was hoarse from days of silence.

"Because I lost your mother."

Max moved closer to his daughter and lay a hand on her arm, "When your mother died I didn't want to go on. I never thought I could get over her death, much less live without her. But you know what Tempy, I know she cared about me, that she loved me and she would want me to go on. She would have wanted me to continue living, to make sure that you and your brother did the same. You have to go on despite the pain. It hurts at first but it gets easier."

Temperance gave Max a very skeptical scowl.

"Booth would want the same for you," she tensed at her partner's name but her father went on, "He cared about you a lot and I really don't think he'd want you to spend the rest of your life in a dark room mourning him. I'm not saying to throw yourself back into work and forget, but you need to ease yourself back into life. You need to take each day one step at a time, one hour or even a minute at a time. Like I said, it hurts, I won't lie to you, it hurts so much, but every day it gets a little bit easier to do. All I'm asking is that you try Temperance, for Booth's sake."

Fresh tears welled in her eyes as her hand met her father's. He pulled her up gently and she laid her head on his shoulder. In Max's embrace she realized that life had to go on, even if she was in hell.

________________________________________________________________________

In the living room two tense faces greeted Max's return.

"How is she?" questioned Sweets.

"Did she talk to you?" asked Angela.

Max gave them a ghost of a smile, "She's going to shower and she'll be out in a bit."

Tension turned to relief for the first time in days.

_**To be continued…**_

_**Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know!**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's Note: **__A short chapter tonight, but more will come soon! Thanks again for all the lovely reviews! Enjoy!  
________________________________________________________________________

Going back to work should have been easy for her. Work should have been her sanctuary, her escape. Identifying remains should have been almost soothing for her, a place where she could forget about what had happened. She was known for compartmentalizing her feelings, repressing things, and her general lack of emotions, it should have been easy to do.

But it wasn't.

She thought she could be strong and begin to move on with life.

But she wasn't.

She felt as if she had a shadow hovering just behind her all the time, as if he followed her, a ghost haunting every minute of her life. Every time a card was swiped on the platform her head snapped up, expecting him to come jogging up the stairs. Each time someone lingered in her office doorway she could almost sense his presence. Sitting in the diner she could only smell his favourite pie while she sat alone in their spot. Even in sleep she could see him. She didn't sleep well any more.

It didn't help that her lab, her work, was a constant reminder of him.

Flashes of him pestering the squints while they worked or sending her a charm smile swam through her mind. Walking into her office she would pause to stare at the ceiling where the mistletoe had hung wishing she could feel his lips on hers again.

Every time her phone rang, she anticipated hearing his voice.

Each and every time a memory haunted her it broke her heart again.

She tried, she really did, but she couldn't do it any more. It was three weeks after the funeral when she finally broke.

"I need to take a leave of absence."

Cam had been working at her desk when the anthropologist appeared in her office un-announced. Turning her concentration from the paper work she tried to absorb Brennan's blunt statement. Before she could comment Brennan continued.

"I don't know how long I'll be gone, I just, I can't be here any more, not right now."

"I understand," Cam replied. She had noticed her co-worker becoming more distant and distracted since Booth's death. Cam thought she needed the space, a chance to get away from the lab for awhile.

"Where will you go?"

"I've had offers from various universities to guest lecture. I think I might do that for awhile. After that I might stay somewhere and work on my next novel. I have no real plans right now except to get out of D.C."

Cam nodded, "Well then I wish you the best of luck Dr. Brennan. Give me a call when you're ready to come back."

________________________________________________________________________

**Iraq**

"_Promise me Booth," she whispered, "Promise me you'll come back." _

_Leaning in he kissed her, savoring the softness of her lips. When he pulled away he breathed, "I promise." _

_As he spoke the words she faded away. _

"_Bones!" _

Booth bolted up from the cot he was sleeping on, her name still on his lips. Realizing where he was he ran a hand over his face and tried to bring down his heart rate. Calming down he lay back again and reached for his shirt. Scrounging for the pocket he found what he was looking for and sighed. From the picture she smiled up at him.

He missed her so much.

"Hey, Booth, you alright man?" Trent had turned on his side to face his comrade.

"Just a dream, I'm good."

It was a lie; he would not feel good until she was back in his arms.

Trent gestured to the picture, "That's your girl, right?"

A ghost of a smile crossed Booth's face, "Yeah, that's her."

"What's her name?"

"Bones," the smile got a little bigger.

"Bones? What kind of name is that?" Trent said, raising an eyebrow.

"She used to hate when I called her that," Booth's gaze was drawn back to the picture; "Officially she's Dr. Temperance Brennan, a forensic anthropologist and my partner, the FBI's liaison with the Jeffersonian. We've worked together for a few years now."

"Wait a second, I know her," recognition hit Trent, "she writes those novels."

Booth chuckled, "She does, but mainly she works with me."

"And she's your girl, you lucky bastard, she's hot."

"Tell me about it," he grinned, "What's your fiancé's name?"

Trent dug in his bag, pulled out a picture and handed it to Booth, "Gillian, we're getting married in the fall…" he stopped, "if we ever get out of here and she forgives me."

The smile faded from Booth's face, "I know what you mean. When I get back Bones will probably kick my ass. I'll be lucky if she ever talks to me again."

"Aren't you hoping she'll be so relieved that you're alive that she'll forget the whole being mad at you part? That's what I want."

Booth rubbed absently at his cheek remembering what had happened last time Bones found out he faked his death, "She'll still kick my ass, and then maybe she'll be glad to see me."

Trent laughed a little, "All I know is that I'll be glad to see Gillian again, despite what she thinks of me," he grew more serious, "I miss her so much. That's the hardest part about being here is being away from her. Sometimes I worry about her more than I worry about our mission."

Booth clutched the picture of Bones to his heart, "I feel the same way."

________________________________________________________________________

Once, awhile back, he had asked that if he died, she would speak to him at his grave. Originally she had found this to be strange request, one that she thought she would never have to fulfill. Yet as the sun set behind her, she found herself laying flowers on his grave and talking aloud.

"I'm leaving D.C., not permanently, but for awhile. I hope you understand why I have to go. It hurts too much to be here right now, I need to be some place where I'm not surrounded by you."

Reaching out she traced the letters etched in the stone as she fought back tears.

"Just know that you'll be in my heart Booth, I won't forget, I promise."

_**To be continued…**_

_**Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know! **_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's Note: **__I know this story is sad right now, maybe borderline depressing, but I hope its going to get better. It is going to take a turn in this chapter and maybe go a little cliché, but I blame it all on the plot bunny because if I don't write it down then the plot bunny is just going to keep hopping around in my head and bugging me to write the story this way. So if this story is not your cup of tea, please don't flame me because you have been warned. Sorry for the delay in posting a new chapter, I kept re-working it in my head and it changed several times before I finally wrote it down. _

_Thanks again for all the reviews! Enjoy the following chapter…_

__________________________________________________________________________

As the lecture tour got on the way, life began to take on a new routine for Brennan. She enjoyed traveling and taking in the sights of different states. She liked meeting the various professors and professionals of the universities and colleges and she liked answering questions from students. She didn't mind the different hotel rooms each night, it meant that she didn't form an attachment with any place and that nothing reminded her of life back home.

Every day or so she would arrive in a new city and check into a new hotel. She would then proceed to the school and wander around. She would chat with the faculty and meet students who wanted to break into her field. Later she would lecture, answer questions and interact with students and staff a bit more. If there was time she would take in the city she was in then head back to her hotel room. Each night she challenged herself to tweak her lecture to keep it interesting, or add relevant facts or trivia that the students would appreciate. Other nights she would loose herself in writing her new novel. Living in Kathy and Andy's world provided an escape from her own.

With time she began to regain control over her life and the pain. She would push the painful memories aside and try to live in the moment. It was only when she slept that he still haunted her. In her most vivid dreams she could almost reach out and touch him, hear his voice, feel closer to him than ever. She would wake up believing that he was still alive. At first she would be jolted awake and find herself sobbing in the dark, but now she cherished these dreams, knowing that she had to preserve his memory.

Brennan realized that her journey through hell was ending, the constant ache of losing Booth was fading and life was going on.

________________________________________________________________________

**Iraq**

His life was stalled; he was stuck waiting for orders growing more impatient with each passing day. The crucial mission that he had hypothetically given his life for had been pushed back, re-planned and re-scheduled for weeks. Booth was left to linger around the safe house he had been placed in with his men, awaiting the next commands to come in.

Each day that went by he thought of her. The separation was killing him; it felt like an eternity had passed since he had last heard her voice. Would she forget him? Would she move on with her life? He was afraid that she wouldn't wait any more, but how could anyone wait for a dead man?

With each day that passed he felt as though he moved deeper into hell.

_______________________________________________________________________

The suitcase landed on the bed and she began to re-pack her clothes for the next morning's departure. Moving to the bathroom she gathered the non-essential toiletries and then fiddled with their arrangement in her suitcase. A small box at the bottom caught her eye and she lifted it out.

_Funny, _she thought, _I haven't needed these in awhile. _

Glancing at the date on her cell phone she did the mental calculations and stopped dead.

It had been about three months since she'd used any thing from the small box in her hand, which then slipped from her grip. The blood drained from her face and she sat heavily down on the bed.

Three months. It had been three months since he had deployed. Three months since they had…

This wasn't happening, it couldn't happen, she began to panic.

There was only one way to find out, so she grabbed her purse and went shooting out of her hotel room.

________________________________________________________________________

**Iraq**

Pacing outside his superior's door, Booth ran an agitated hand through his hair. His watch told him he had been waiting nearly ten minutes.

"Booth? Come on in," came the slightly southern accent from the doorway.

_Finally, _he thought.

The office was sparsely decorated; the desk was littered with paper work. The older man went to sit and then eyed Booth.

"What can I do for you son?"

"Sir, I want to know the status of our mission."

"I told you the other day what the status was."

"That we're still waiting."

"That's right," the tone was slightly condescending.

"It's just that, we've been here three months sir, our mission has been delayed countless times and we're all getting restless. Trent, Williams and I just want to know what the time frame is so we can get home. Our loved ones think we're dead, the longer this goes on, the harder it's going to be for them to understand when we get back."

His superior sighed, "I understand that you miss your families, it's hard without contact. But we need you here. If it's any consolation, I received word today that the higher ups are finalizing plans and we should know within the next twenty four hours what to do next. I cannot tell you how long it will take, but everything will be put into motion soon."

A small smile formed on Booth's face. Maybe it wouldn't be long before he could go home, "That's good news sir."

"Yes it is. Is that all son?"

"Yes sir."

________________________________________________________________________

Hours later she sat staring at his white gravestone in Arlington, her mind reeling with the night's revelations.

It had taken only half an hour to confirm her hypothesis at the hotel. She had spent the next half hour sitting on the bathroom floor, staring at the blue stick in her hand trying to grasp what she had just found out.

It in fact explained a lot to her. It gave a reason for why she was sick after Booth's death; she had chalked that up to grief and depression. It explained why she had found herself craving pie, even though she did not enjoy cooked fruit. Somehow it even gave her a reason for why she still felt as if he was close to her, that he hadn't entirely left.

She had thought long and hard about her options on the journey back to D.C. but a little part of her had known from the moment she had found out what she was going to do.

"I'm scared Booth," she spoke to the headstone, "but I'm going to do this. It will be a challenge, but my life has been full of them, I'm going to tackle this like I have the others. I have to, because life goes on, even when you think it can't any more. Maybe this is what you'd call a sign, a sign that things will be alright, that I'll still always have a part of you even though you're gone," tears were welling up in her eyes, "I just wish you could be here with me, with our baby…"

She cried openly as the sun rose over the cemetery, for him, for herself and for the child who would never know its father.

_**Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know! **_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's Note: **__As I live in Ontario, Canada, all I know of the University of Washington is the location and the department. So if anyone who goes there is reading this, please forgive any errors. It offers undergraduate and graduate studies in anthropology and is in Seattle so it fits for the purposes of this story. _

_Again, thanks for the reviews! Enjoy this chapter!_

_________________________________________________________________________ _

**Iraq**

The photograph was faded and worn and his thumb glided over the smooth surface he knew all too well. Did she still look the same? Had she changed her hair? What else had changed about her since he had last seen her? The questions echoed in his mind. The picture was all he had left of her and it was his most prized possession. Looking at it reminded him of why he should keep going each day, to make it back to her.

_Had she moved on? _He hated that thought and tried to banish it from his mind. Instead he focused on recalling the sound of her voice, the feel of her skin and the soft touch of her lips on his. He struggled now, her voice having faded in his memory after all this time.

Four months ago he had been told that the mission was still on going. The men had been busy for some time, strategizing, planning, carrying out orders, but then a target had gotten away, drawing out their assignment yet again. Tracking had taken time and now, finally, they were in the end stages with a goal in sight. If all went well he would be going home in one week.

In one week he would be back on American soil, be able to embrace his son and see her again. One short week, it hardly seemed tangible considering how long he had been away, for it had been seven months, three days and one hour since he had last been home.

________________________________________________________________________

Placing another graded paper on the pile, she sighed as she rubbed at her swollen belly. Dinner was late tonight, she had wanted to get through some more marking, but the baby was making objections towards this plan. At seven months pregnant she was used to giving into the tiny demands, especially when they involved food.

Awhile later she found herself at her favourite diner, a similar place to the one back home. The waitress knew her and took the order quickly. Brennan settled into her booth as she watched the cars go by outside.

At four months along she had finished her lecture tour in Seattle at the University of Washington. As she spoke with the head of anthropology afterwards he offered her the opportunity to co-teach a small graduate class for the remainder of the term. Dr. Mitchell had been running the class and he insisted that it would be thrilling if she continued it with him, it would be such an experience for his students. Brennan had intended to take some time off to finish her novel but having spent so much time on it during her tour she figured she could take on the graduate class as well. She hadn't taught in ages and decided to challenge herself yet again. Besides, she was enjoying the West coast, she had considered staying in the area while writing.

The smell of fries wafted in her direction and the waitress appeared bearing her wrap with the side order.

The graduate class had proved to be a fulfilling challenge, her students reminded her of the eager ones that would occasionally show up at the Jeffersonian. It made her miss Zack but she was encouraged by the talent being shown by these young people.

During her lecture tour she had taken frequent trips back to D.C., stopping first to visit Booth's grave and then to see the team. Taking on the class meant that she had not had time to go back but Angela had insisted that she keep checking in by phone.

One thing she did not share with her friends was the pregnancy. She had decided that it was enough for her to deal with on her own, so she did not need her friends constantly worrying about her as well. She didn't want to deal with the pity and sympathy people would give her when they found out it was Booth's child, she wanted at least some time on her own before that happened. Hormones made her emotions difficult to deal with now; she didn't need all the questions to set her off if she went home. With her new life at the university she could simply say she was a single mother, no one knew what had happened to Booth or that it was his baby, she didn't need to explain. Brennan's plan was to fly Angela out to see her before the birth and then tell her friend the truth. She hoped the artist would forgive her so that she could be there when the baby was born.

Brennan sipped at her tea and the waitress came by again, dropping off a piece of apple pie. This was Booth's baby, it had an appetite for cooked fruit with pastry, he would be proud.

It had been a damp, rainy night and she had been huddled in her office going over her lesson for the next day when the baby had first kicked. Her hands had instantly flown to her abdomen in shock but waiting for the movement to happen again. The tiny foot made contact a second time and a lump immediately formed in her throat. She had wanted so badly to share the moment with Booth and it broke her heart that he would miss this and every other milestone in their baby's life.

Every time the child moved within her it was bittersweet. At night she wondered against her own logic if Booth was in the heaven he believed in. Maybe, if there was a heaven, Booth was there, watching over her and the baby. She found herself wanting to believe this.

Finishing the tea Brennan pulled out her wallet and left some cash on the table. It was time to stop reminiscing; the papers wouldn't finish marking themselves.

________________________________________________________________________

**Iraq**

"We're going home!"

Williams and Trent cheered as Booth raised his beer to toast their victory. It was Sunday and on Monday morning they would board a plane and head home for good. They had done it, they had captured their last target and their mission was officially complete.

By this time tomorrow he hoped to have the whole situation explained to her and prayed that they would find themselves at his or her apartment for some quality alone time.

Booth raised his drink again, "To getting back to the ones we love," he said to his men.

"I will drink to that," answered Trent.

"Amen," echoed Williams.

For the first time in months a genuine smile spread across Booth's face. Finally his journey through hell was ending.

________________________________________________________________________

**Monday**

**The Jeffersonian **

The team was convened on the platform bent over the remains of a victim. It had been a tough few months for them having to adjust to a temporary replacement for Dr. Brennan, a young woman who was nothing like her predecessor. Today she was being assisted by Wendell.

A beeping noise sounded at the stairs and Angela looked up, interested in who would be joining the group when everyone was already there. She immediately paled and her hand flew over her mouth.

"Oh. My. God."

Hodgins had been standing beside her and his eyes flew to the new comer. He then put his arms around the artist to steady her and himself as his mouth hung open.

Cam's face had taken on a similar expression of shock as she gripped the steel table. Wendell looked as though he might pass out. The new doctor appeared very confused.

"Tell me the remains are emitting some toxic gas and I'm hallucinating," Angela's voice was shaky.

"Then I'm on the same trip," Hodgins replied.

Standing at the top of the stairs stood Special Agent Booth who stared back at the team.

"Hi guys," he said sheepishly.

Wendell crossed himself as Cam slowly walked forward, "Booth?" she whispered the name.

He gave her a small smile, "I'm really here."

That was all it took for Cam to throw herself into his arms. She hugged him tightly as Angela came to join her. The artist stepped back and ran her fingers over the agent's shoulder.

"You're real," she said in awe, "You're really alive."

Hodgins approached Booth, "Dude, where have you been?" They shared a manly hug as Wendell finally came close enough for the agent to give him a clap on the back.

Booth eyed the blonde, younger man, "You look like you've seen a ghost," he joked.

"I just can't believe it I guess. What happened to you?"

The smile disappeared from Booth's face, "I was on a highly classified mission. The military had to fake my death. I'm sorry guys."

"They what?!" Cam explained, "Again?! You mean you couldn't tell us?"

"No, sorry," Booth glanced around, "Um, where's Bones?"

Angela's face had taken on a dark expression and her eyes flashed with quick anger. Suddenly she leapt forward and smacked Booth across the face.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, "What the…"

"You son of a bitch! That was for Brennan!" she yelled at him, "How could you do that to her?!"

He rubbed gingerly at his cheek, "I was expecting that from her," he answered sarcastically, "but I can explain. I couldn't tell anyone, it was a matter of national security."

"I hope it was one hell of a conspiracy, otherwise I should seriously kick your ass," Hodgins threatened, "Your death really hurt Dr. B."

"I want to explain everything to her, I want to make things right, I really do," Booth pleaded, "Where is she?"

"She's not here, she took a leave of absence," Cam told him.

"Then tell me where she is and I'll go find her!"

Angela glared at him, "Do you think you can just waltz back into her life and expect her to be happy you're back?" she hissed at him.

"No," Booth's eyebrows shot up, "I think she'll kick my ass, yell at me for a bit, maybe not talk to me for a few days, but I'm hoping she'll eventually come around."

"Really?" the artist huffed, "Then you have no idea how your death," she air quoted the word, "affected her, do you?"

She strode forward and poked Booth in the chest, "I've never seen Brennan so broken and upset in the entire time I've known her. She left because she couldn't deal with being here, constantly reminded of you. We're all afraid that when she comes back, if she ever comes back, that she'll never be the same again. If you think you can surprise her like you did us, well that's a terrible plan. You can't just reappear back from the dead and expect her to accept it, she's emotionally damaged Booth. Maybe you should re-think that plan."

"Oh," he stuttered, he really hadn't considered that, "How upset was she?" He figured she would compartmentalize her feelings and move on. Bones was strong, he had counted on that.

"Dr. Brennan fainted when she initially found out, then at your funeral she had an emotional break down," Cam supplied.

"She stayed in bed for days, wouldn't speak or see anyone. You broke her Booth," Hodgins glowered at him.

"When she did finally get up, she came back here, but her heart wasn't in her work. Then she left," Angela finished.

"Oh God," Booth muttered, it was worse than he could have imagined, "I'm so sorry…"

He had hurt her more than he thought he would. He knew it was going to be bad but he had never expected her to react the way they described it. His eyes fixed on Angela.

"Will you help me?" he asked her, "Will you help me find Bones and explain this? Please?"

"Do you swear you couldn't tell anyone you were alive? Do you swear that this isn't like last time where she didn't get the message," Angela paused, "Cause if Sweets had anything to do with this I will kill him!"

"Sweets had nothing to do with this. The government and military chose to fake my death; I swear I couldn't tell anyone."

"Then I'll help you," she took his hand, "But whatever Brennan does to you is your own fault, understand?"

________________________________________________________________________

**Seattle **

The phone in her apartment rang and Brennan pushed herself off the couch to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hi Sweetie," came her friend's voice.

"Hi Angela, how are you?"

The artist skipped the small talk, "Brenn, you need to come home, like now."

"I can't, why what's wrong?"

"This isn't something I can explain over the phone."

Brennan rolled her eyes, she could say the same thing about her condition, "I can't come back right now Ange, I'm in the middle of grading papers and preparing an exam."

The artist gave a frustrated sigh, "Can I come there?"

She could easily take Booth with her; it was all about easing the anthropologist into the reunion.

"How important is this Angela? Now is really not a good time, could it wait a few weeks?"

"Sweetie, this is big."

Brennan was beginning to get annoyed, "Can you just tell me and we'll get together later? I was going to have you come visit me soon anyways; I have things to tell you as well."

Angela realized she was losing the battle and decided to give her friend a hint that might entice her, "It has to do with information about Booth," she said slowly.

She heard Brennan's sharp intake of breath, "Sweetie? You okay?"

"I don't want to talk about Booth. Ange, I'll call you soon, but I've got to go," she said quickly.

"Brenn wait!"

But it was too late. Angela was left with a dial tone.

The phone rang again in Seattle, but the anthropologist ignored it and shut off her answering machine. She didn't want to hear any information about Booth's death or what the army had to say. She didn't want to tear open old wounds that had taken so long to heal. Whatever it was could wait, at least until after the baby was born. She knew stress wasn't good for either of them.

________________________________________________________________________

**The Jeffersonian**

"Brenn wait!" the line went dead, "Crap!" Angela dialed the number again and was cut off.

"She hung up," Booth said flatly.

"She freaked a little when she heard your name."

"Give me her address," he held out his hand, expecting her to write it down.

"Oh, that's an idea, we could write her a letter, but an e-mail would be faster," the artist's eyes lit up with the idea.

He shook his head, "No, I'm going there."

"You can't do that!"

"Watch me! I'm sick and tired of waiting, I've waited seven months to see her!" he moved towards the desk but Angela stopped him.

"You're going to do more damage if you just burst in on her!"

"Well it's better than her ignoring your attempts to ease her into this."

"I'm not giving you her address!"

He gave a short laugh, "Then I'll find it myself. FBI, remember?"

Angela sighed in defeat, "Well at least let me call her again, I'll e-mail her too, give her some warning."

"And you know she'll ignore both. She's a scientist Angela, she won't believe you until the proof is standing in front of her, you know that."

It was true, the artist knew it, "Fine," she reached into her desk and pulled out a piece of paper, "Here," she handed it to him, "But I warned you, remember that okay?"

Booth nodded, "Thanks Ange."

_______________________________________________________________________

A few hours later Booth boarded a flight to Seattle. As the plane flew through the sky he prayed that everything would be alright and that she would forgive him.

_**To be continued…**_

_**You know what's coming next; I'll try to be quick with posting the anticipated chapter. **_

_**Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know! **_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Author's Note: **__Some readers have inquired as to why Booth's mission took so long (seven months). I attempted to explain the time frame within the story (a target they were after got away) but I also chose seven months because I wanted Brennan visibly pregnant when he came back, there is another reason but you'll need to read this chapter to find out. _

_This chapter of the story is actually what began the whole thing. As with most of my stories, this particular chapter stemmed from a dream I had. I usually dream in snippets, a scene that sets off the spark and then the rest of the plot bunny takes on a life of its own. My dream was Booth coming back after a long period of time to find Brennan pregnant and not at the Jeffersonian. _

_There is also a small surprise in this chapter!_

_So with no further ado, I present the most anticipated chapter of the entire story (according to reviews)! Thanks again for the comments and as always, enjoy! _

_________________________________________________________________________

**Seattle **

Five hundred potential anthropology students chatted amongst themselves waiting for the lecture to begin. The famous Dr. Temperance Brennan, forensic anthropologist and world renowned author was giving a rare address today for students who were considering coming to the University of Washington.

Backstage, Brennan took a deep breath and rubbed at her extended abdomen. She was having a bad day and giving a speech in five minutes was not helping it get any better.

"Please stop that," she muttered as she massaged the top of her belly.

Tiny heels kicked again at her diaphragm and ribs in response. It was not a pleasant sensation. The previous night she had gotten little sleep, the baby had hiccups and the rhythmic vibrations jolted through her body keeping her up. When the hiccups had stopped and she had finally drifted off, the baby switched positions, settling it's weight directly on top of her bladder, forcing her to get up to use the bathroom, several times. Once settled yet again in bed she had finally passed out only to be woken up by a phone call from the department secretary. She had apparently missed an early meeting with one of her grad students. Her eyes had shot to the clock only to discover she was running horribly late having over slept.

Her day had started out badly and it wouldn't get any better.

Earlier today she had received yet another e-mail from Angela, who was trying to tell her something about Booth. She had deleted the message without reading it as she had ignored the phone calls. Brennan did not want to talk about him, she was too afraid she would fall apart all over again, especially while extra hormonal. She had worked to hard to regain her control to loose it now; it would be hard enough to keep the memories at bay when the baby was born. Whatever it was could wait another month or so, then, when she dealt with the birth of his son or daughter, she would deal with what Angela had to tell her. None the less the messages had rattled her.

Now, her thumbs traced the feeling of the baby's heels as she tried desperately to get the baby to stop kicking her.

"You should be tired," she hissed at her belly, "You were up half the night, go back to sleep!"

"Dr. Brennan, are you alright?" Dr. Mitchell's head went from her to the stage.

"I'll be fine," she answered, giving him a small smile she hoped passed for fine.

"Okay, I'm going to introduce you, good luck," he patted her shoulder then walked out on stage to address the crowd.

________________________________________________________________________

Booth cursed loudly as he circled the rather full parking lot. He would give anything to have his own truck at the moment with flashing lights and the authority to leave it any where. Unfortunately, the rental from the airport did not have FBI perks to it.

"Screw this," he said aloud and drove up to the front of the lot where a security truck was parked. He threw the car into park and got out, not caring if he blocked anything or not.

"Sir, you can't park there," the security guard gave him a stern look as Booth slammed his car door.

"FBI," he flashed his badge, which he had acquired before he left D.C., it did come in handy in situations like these.

The security guard gaped at him, "Oh," he uttered, "How can I help you sir? Did one of the students do something?"

"I need to know the whereabouts of Dr. Temperance Brennan," he took advantage of the guard being compliant.

"Are you here for her speech?"

"What speech?"

"Well it's why everyone else is here, to see Dr. Brennan lecture today. You're late though, they told us she'd be done in about an hour and you've missed half of it already."

Booth rolled his eyes, maybe it was better that he was late. He had fallen asleep during several of her lectures in the past.

"So where would she be lecturing?"

The security guard gladly gave him directions to the hall and seemed to ignore Booth's parking job.

It didn't take long to find the lecture hall. He found the doors closed and guarded with students acting as ushers/ambassadors for the department and school.

"Can I help you sir?" asked a boy who to Booth looked like a future squint.

"I'm just going in to see the speech," he replied casually.

"Sorry, I can't allow that. The hall is at capacity, plus it would disturb other…"

Booth shoved his badge close to the boy's face and opened the door.

"I'm going in," he repeated to which the squint did not object.

As soon as he stepped into the hall he heard it, the sweet sound of her voice, even if she was in lecture mode. His eyes traveled to the podium and there she was, his Bones.

A large smile spread across his face as he watched her, taking in the way the lighting made her hair shine, how her blue eyes were so intense and focused on her subject matter and the way the red shirt she wore made her skin seem so pale but beautiful in comparison. He wished she would step out from behind the large podium so he could see her body, oh how he had longed for that body.

Booth leaned back against the wall as the power point presentation continued. He hoped the lecture was nearly over; all he wanted to do was to run down there and take her in his arms right now.

As she talked he closed his eyes and began to imagine their reunion. She would see him and run to him, he would kiss her and they would live happily ever after, or at least that was the movie ending version he hoped for. No one could blame him for fantasizing.

He was somewhat startled and jolted out of his daydreaming when the crowd began to clap. Another man stepped out on the stage and began to thank Dr. Brennan for her time and dedication to her profession. Then she moved forward to shake the man's hand and Booth's heart stopped.

Her protruding belly stuck out in its full glory as she turned sideways.

_Bones is pregnant?! _

His eyes were nearly bulging out of his head, his eyebrows somewhere near his hairline.

_When the hell did that happen?! _

She then waved to the crowd who cheered again and walked off stage with the man. People began to move around him and he quickly went for the doors. Spotting the young squint again he grabbed his arm.

"Buddy, how do I get backstage? I need to get to Dr. Brennan."

"She won't be back there for long, there's a reception afterwards and she'll be going there."

"Alright, where's that then?"

The young squint pointed down the hall where everyone seemed to be moving.

"Follow the crowd."

Booth gave an aggravated sigh and began to jostle through the large crowd of people. The walk towards the reception area was slow and when he finally entered the room he was met by a sea of people. From the far left hand side of the room people began to cheer as a door opened, then he heard her name being called by several different voices. He began to make his way in that direction.

Getting more agitated with every minute it took to get to her, he finally made it to where he could see the back of her head.

She was being led to a large table with copies of her last book on it. Already the potential new students were lining up for her autograph.

"Dr. Brennan!"

"Dr. Brennan, I love your book!"

"Dr. Brennan, over here!"

The crowd was shouting her name, camera flashes were going off and the line up was almost as large as the one for the refreshments. Brennan was making her way to the sanctuary behind the table now, her arms protectively wrapped around her baby bump. Booth watched her smile for the crowd but he could tell she was slightly overwhelmed.

He was still trapped behind a few rows of people who stood watching the autograph table. The line to her right began to move as the first person approached her. She spoke briefly with the star-struck student and signed her book. This process was repeated over and over while Booth stayed in his spot, waiting for an opportunity. He didn't want to cause a scene in front of everyone by just pushing past and then surprising her. He also didn't want to make a public display of her kicking his ass.

Slowly the crowd in front of him seemed to dissipate until a single line in of people blocked his view. He wandered towards the middle of the line, almost directly in her line of vision. He continued his observation as she signed another book.

As she waited for the next person she looked up, her eyes seeming to scan the people in the room.

Then her eyes fell upon him.

She seemed startled for a second and her left hand fell against her pregnant belly.

For one quick second blue eyes met brown before Booth turned away.

This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. He wanted them to be alone when they finally reunited, not to embarrass her in front of an entire crowd. It was a mistake to come to the reception, so Booth made towards the exit, intending to wait outside for her.

________________________________________________________________________

As Brennan was escorted towards the reception she rubbed circles into the small of her back trying to relieve the pain of standing for so long. The lecture had gone well but now she was off to the part she was dreading the most, signing copies of her book and answering the same questions over and over. On a normal day she wouldn't mind so much, but today was already becoming a long day and a bad one at that.

"Can I get you anything Dr. Brennan?"

One of the grad students assisting with the event appeared at her side.

"Lisa, would you please get me a hot cup of tea?"

The young woman gave her a look of sympathy and nodded. Maybe if she had the tea and could sit down for awhile she would feel better, although her couch, her quiet apartment and a cup of tea seemed like a more appealing option.

"Here we go Dr. Brennan," Dr. Mitchell said as he opened the door to the reception hall.

She was immediately greeted with cheering, cameras flashing and people calling her name as they made their way towards a table.

She spent the next monotonous hour signing copies of her last novel and answering questions. She kept up her interested and smiling persona but she wanted to go home and sleep.

As the crowd began to thin and she waited for the next person in line, she scanned the room trying to gauge how many people were left.

A tall figure in the crowd of people, a few feet in front of her table, caught her eye. The build, the brown hair, something about him was familiar. The person in front of him moved and she stifled a gasp.

It couldn't be.

Her hand flew to her belly where she carried a part of him.

Then, for a quick second brown eyes met blue.

_Booth._

He turned away from her breaking the eye contact and began moving through the crowd.

_It couldn't be. She was tired, it was someone who looked like him, _she tried to rationalize to herself.

But his eyes, those warm brown eyes were the same ones she knew so well.

"Um, Dr. Brennan?" the youth standing in front of her held out a copy of her book giving her a weird stare.

"Excuse me," she pushed back her chair, stood up, and walked off the stage.

_Booth was dead, there was no way it could be him. This is impossible, insane, _she told herself as she marched towards the back door of the reception hall. Yet she followed anyways, needing to prove to herself that it wasn't him.

_What if it was? _

She ignored the call of her name and the shocked outcries from her fans. He was further up the hall, nearly at the door, she caught site of his jacket and hair through the crowd.

"Dr. Brennan, a moment of your time," someone tried to distract her, but she pushed by.

He was out the door and striding down the corridor now, unaware of her pursuit. She was catching up as the people began to thin outside the hall.

He moved towards the glass doors and went outside to the courtyard. She followed and he was less than ten feet ahead of her now.

"Wait!" she cried out.

________________________________________________________________________

He needed to get out of the hall. Booth left and walked down the corridor of the university. Spotting the courtyard he moved outside, wanting some fresh air desperately.

"Wait!"

Booth's heart stopped at the sound of her voice.

_______________________________________________________________________

The muscles in his neck and back tensed and he froze.

Her voice shook, "Turn around…please…"

As if in slow motion he turned, his profile coming into view. When he faced her she clamped a hand over her mouth.

Their eyes met again.

"Bones…"

Her name fell from his lips and her eyes grew larger than he had ever seen. She made a sound halfway between a strangled sob and yelp that escaped from behind her fingers.

"You're not…" she struggled to form the words, "You're not real…No…you're dead…" the word had finality to it, "This isn't…it's not happening…you're dead…"

Brennan was visibly shaking, one hand clenched before her face the other clasped around her abdomen.

He took a shaky step towards her, his eyes searching hers and she stepped back like a frightened animal.

"Bones," he tried to control his own voice, "I'm real…" he moved towards her.

It was her turn to freeze as he said her name again and stood in front of her.

Those warm brown eyes, that voice, his smell, the empirical evidence overwhelmed her. Brennan's heart was pounding in her ears as her mouth formed the name she had forbidden herself to say for so long.

"Booth…?"

A ghost of a smile formed on his face as she whispered his name. He reached out and gently took her hand, evoking another small gasp from her. He raised her hand and brought it to his cheek. Slender fingers met warm flesh.

"I'm real Bones," he said quietly.

His own fingers rested on hers and with the lightness of a feather she caressed his cheek.

"How?" she breathed.

Brown eyes closed as he took a breath, "Bones, I'm so sorry…"

She arched her eyebrow as regret spread across his face.

"I didn't have a choice…I had to," he continued, "I'm sorry," his voice was breaking with emotion, "I didn't want to do this to you, again."

_Again, _she latched onto that word as the pieces of the puzzle fell together in her mind.

He wasn't dead, he had never been dead.

_Again. _He had faked his death again.

Recognition, understanding and anger flashed in her eyes all in a matter of seconds. Wrenching her hand from his she pulled back and hit him hard across the face.

He barely had time to react.

"How could you?" her voice was dangerously low, "How dare you?" it got higher, "You son of a bitch!" she screamed.

"Bones, I couldn't…"

He was cut off as she hit him again, harder, if possible this time.

"You son of a bitch! You promised!" She yelled, her voice hitching, "You promised! You promised me!"

Booth tried to take her shoulders but she shoved him away, "Bones, I'm sorry…"

"No! Don't you dare, don't you say that," she backed away from him, "Do you have any idea," she was half sobbing now, "Do you have any idea what I've been through?!"

Launching forward she began to pound her fists against his chest. He stood his ground.

"Bones…"

"Do you have any idea…" she began to screech but stopped, the anger suddenly gone from her eyes, replaced by a striking shot of pain.

The fists stopped pounding and now clutched at his shirt. He grabbed her as she fell to her knees and cried out in pain.

"Bones, what's wrong?" she was holding her belly, groaning in agony, "Come on Bones, talk to me," he pleaded.

"Something's wrong...oh God…the baby…" she panted.

She leaned heavily against his chest, sweat forming on her forehead. Booth whipped out his cell phone and dialed 911.

From somewhere behind him people were shouting and it was only then that he became aware of the crowd that had been watching them.

The 911 operator was asking him questions he could barely comprehend, "Just send an ambulance to the University of Washington courtyard…No I don't know which one!"

A campus security guard appeared beside him and took the phone from his hand.

"I'll tell them, you take care of her," he motioned to Brennan who was breathing heavily.

"Do you think you're in labor?" he asked her.

"I don't know," the tears were falling down her cheeks. She bucked forward as another wave of pain hit her.

"You're going to be okay Bones," he clutched her hand and prayed that he would be right.

________________________________________________________________________

One quick and tense ambulance ride later they burst through the doors of the hospital and into the ER. Doctors surrounded Brennan shouting orders as they arrived in a trauma room. Booth stood beside her stretcher and he reached out to smooth the hair away from her sweaty forehead when her eyes flashed to his.

"Don't touch me," she hissed.

"Dr. Brennan? I need you to tell me if you've had any other pain today," a short, dark haired doctor asked her.

"Just some lower back pain, but I stood for a long time," she replied.

The doctor wrote it down, "Dr. Montgomery will be here any second but I think you've gone into early labor."

"I'm right here Bailey," a redheaded doctor came into the room and began her assessment.

Booth took his opportunity, "Bones, I'm sorry…"

She gave him a cold look, "I don't care, don't you say that when you promised me…"

Two heart rate monitors began to beep frantically.

"Baby's in distress," called a nurse.

"I never wanted to do this to you…"

"But you did!"

She closed her eyes in pain and another machine started to screech. He reached out for her hand and she yanked it away, "Get away from me…" she started to cry again.

"But Bones…"

"Sir, you're going to have to leave," Dr. Bailey told him.

He stared her down, "I'm not going anywhere."

Bailey glared at him, "Yes you are. You're causing unnecessary stress and you're getting in the way of us doing our work. You will leave now or I'll have security escort you out!"

Even though she was much smaller than him her authority and tone of voice more than made up for her stature. He seemed to shrink under her icy glare.

"Yes ma'am," Booth almost squeaked as he began to back out of the room.

_She would make an excellent army sergeant, _Booth thought, despite his worry for Bones.

The door remained open and he watched from outside.

"Dr. Brennan, we need to prepare you for an emergency C-section. Both you and the baby are in distress and it's forced you into pre-term labor. We can't stop it at this point, we must deliver. I'm also concerned because the baby's umbilical cord is wrapped near its neck, I want to get you upstairs immediately," Dr. Montgomery explained.

"But it's to early," Brennan's voice sounded small and weak.

"Don't worry; we've got an excellent neo-natal team. We're going to take good care of you and the baby," the redhead turned away from Bones, "Dr. Bailey, prep Dr. Brennan, I'm going to scrub in, meet me in the OR."

Dr. Montgomery left the room quickly. Not too long after the nurses and Dr. Bailey were pushing Brennan's stretcher out of the room. Booth began to follow them.

"You," Bailey turned to him, her eyes still cold, "Will go to the waiting room. Understand?"

He nodded meekly, "Good. I'll update you later," her voice was softer this time.

As the stretcher disappeared into an elevator Booth leaned against the wall feeling drained. The doors to the elevator closed and he slid down the wall, his head in his hands.

_**To be continued…**_

_**Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know! **_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's Note: **__Again, a big thank you for all the reviews, they are appreciated! Sorry for the delay in chapters, I've been out of town for a few days and busy. A note for the Grey's crossover; in the story Addison is still around, Izzie isn't sick and Bailey just happened to catch Brennan's case in the ER, so she's in on it instead of anyone else. Not sure if any other Grey's cast will pop up yet, but I'm glad most people are enjoying the small cross over. _

_As always, enjoy! _

_________________________________________________________________________

Nurses and doctors swarmed the operating room as Brennan was prepped for immediate surgery. A neo-natal team was preparing their area for the baby and she watched as they set up the emergency instruments for resuscitation. Another wave of panic hit her as she realized how much danger her baby could be in. Scenarios formed in her mind, the baby in danger, herself in peril and new tears formed in her eyes. What if something went wrong? What if something happened to her? She hadn't thought of that, had not appointed a guardian for her child. She was not familiar enough with anyone in Seattle, nor was there enough time to call Angela. Never had she expected that Booth would show up alive, but he was here.

Despite what he had done to her, it was his baby too and if anything did happen to her, well he was its father, even if he didn't know. The tears fell down her cheeks.

"Dr. Brennan, are you alright? Don't be scared, we're going to take good care of both of you," Dr. Bailey appeared at her side, speaking the words soothingly.

"Could you do something for me?" she whispered and Bailey nodded, "The man who was with me, his name is Booth," she took a breath to steady her voice, "he doesn't know this baby is his, could you tell him, please? If anything happens to me," she gulped, "or the baby, he should know."

"Well we're not going to let anything happen to you or the baby, so you can tell him yourself when you wake up," Bailey took a cloth and wiped the tears from Brennan's face.

"But, what if something happens…"

Bailey shook her head, "If anything does happen, I'll tell him for you. But for now I want you to take a deep breath, close your eyes and think positive thoughts. You'll be okay."

Brennan took a shaky breath but did as she was told. The anesthesiologist brought the mask down to her face and in a matter of seconds everything went black.

________________________________________________________________________

"Hello?" Angela's perky voice sounded over the phone.

Booth stayed silent for a second, still trying to determine just what he was going to tell the artist. He had been dreading making this call ever since Bones had collapsed in his arms. Angela was going to kill him if Brennan didn't first. He was mentally kicking himself for not taking the artist's advice or letting her come with him. He was also frustrated that Bones had probably avoided her friend's calls and emails warning her of his impending arrival. Yet how was he supposed to know that Bones was pregnant? Angela certainly didn't know or she would have forbidden Booth to go without her.

This was a mess, a big horrible mess and it was all his fault.

"Hello? Booth is that you?" the artist was getting impatient.

"Yes it's me Angela."

"Did you find her?"

He sighed, "Yes."

"How did it go? Did she kick your ass?"

"She gave me a black eye."

"Good. What else happened? You need to give me more Booth."

"She was shocked at first, then she hit me, then she yelled, a lot."

Angela was beginning to pick up on Booth's tone of voice; she knew he wasn't telling her something, "Then what Booth? Is she still speaking to you? Where are you now?"

She didn't miss the awkward pause before he spoke again.

"Ange, did Bones tell you about a change in her life?"

"Besides moving to the west coast, no. What's going on Booth?" she prodded.

"She's pregnant," he stated bluntly.

"What?!" the artist squealed, "Brennan's pregnant?! How far along is she?"

"I think the doctors said six to eight months along, I'm not sure, everything just happened so fast…"

"Wait! Stop! What happened?"

This was the part Booth was dreading; "I guess the shock of seeing me, plus the screaming she did put the baby into distress and she collapsed. The doctors say she went into pre-term labor, they took her to the OR not long ago for an emergency C-section."

It was Angela's turn to be silent for a few moments as the information hit her. He heard her taking deep breaths.

"Alright, let me get this straight. Brenn's very pregnant, which she didn't tell me, you found her and threw her for an emotional loop, which in turn put her and the baby at risk, is that right?"

"Yes," he answered nervously.

Again, there were a few moments of quiet before Angela answered, "Which hospital are you at?" in a deathly calm voice.

"Seattle Grace."

"Okay," still calm, "Cause I'm on my way to kick your ass Booth!" she shrieked into the phone which he then held away from his ear.

"What the hell were you thinking?! Didn't I tell you she was emotionally fragile!? Now she's in surgery! Why didn't you just walk away and call me!? What the hell Booth? Seriously!"

He winced at the verbal lashing as he held the phone out in front of him. Several people in the waiting room turned to raise eyebrows at him.

"And when Brennan wakes up I'm going to have a word with her as well, ask her why in the world she wouldn't tell me she was pregnant!" Angela continued to fume.

When the artist seemed to have calmed down he brought the phone back to his ear, "Angela?"

"What?" she practically growled at him.

"I tried to walk away, but she saw me and followed. I had no choice."

He could picture the artist rolling her eyes, "I cannot believe she didn't tell me," she was muttering, "Listen, I want updates as they come in. I'll be on the first plane out of here. I'll finish dealing with both of you later," she finished.

Booth had no doubt in his mind that she would follow through with that final threat. As the line went dead he put his cell away and sat back in his chair. Running his hands across his face he went back to worrying about Bones and the baby.

_Whose baby was it? _

That particular thought came front and centre in his mind. Did she move on that fast after his death, even after what the squints had told him? Was it possible that she sought comfort in another man's arms? He shuddered at that idea. His mind went back to how far along she was. Six to eight months…

He had been gone for seven. Seven months, that was exactly how long it had been since he had last seen her and they had…

"Oh God," he gasped aloud.

Again, several pairs of eyes snapped up to give him quizzical glances from around the waiting room.

_Was it possible? _Booth's heart dropped to his stomach as he considered what she must have gone through if that was his baby. It was worse than he could have ever imagined.

_This is truly hell. _

________________________________________________________________________

Just over an hour later Dr. Bailey emerged from the operating room and made her way over to find a certain Special Agent Seeley Booth. As she approached the waiting room she scanned the people for the man, her eyes finally resting on a dejected, tired, broken man who had apprehension, anxiety, fear and guilt written all over his face.

"Agent Booth?"

He jerked his head up at the sound of his name, his brown eyes searching hers for the news. Now vulnerable could be added to the emotions in his expression.

"How is she?" he questioned desperately, "How is the baby?"

Booth had jumped up and Bailey motioned for him to sit back down and she took the seat next to him glad to be off her feet.

"Dr. Brennan lost some blood, but she'll be fine, sore for a few days, but fine," some of the worry drained from his face, "The baby's a tiny thing, we were concerned about her heart rate and breathing but the Neo-natal team took care of her. They'll keep her in the NICU for a bit, but she's going to be fine, just like her mother. They're both fighters."

"She?" Booth whispered.

"Yes, a baby girl."

Relief spread across his face and a small smile replaced the tense line his lips had been in.

"Congratulations Agent Booth," Bailey grinned.

His eyes flew to hers, "Is the baby mine? Did she tell you?"

"What do you think?" she really wanted Dr. Brennan to tell Booth herself.

The smile vanished, "I think she's mine, I know I want her to be mine. I just, I don't know," his voice became harsher, "Not that it's going to matter, Bones is never going to let me see her. She hates me and she'll probably never let me near her or the baby again."

Bailey raised an eyebrow at him, "You don't really believe that, do you? Whatever fight the two of you had, I'm sure you can get over it, especially for the baby."

"I really wish it was that easy," he shrugged, "You have no idea what I put her through."

"Try me."

Booth searched the eyes of the surgeon and found the dare in them. This woman really wanted to help him and Bones.

He ran a nervous hand through his hair as he began, "Bones and I, we've been partners for a few years now. It took awhile but she learned to trust me and I promised her I'd never betray her, well that was until now. Not long ago the FBI faked my death, they promised to tell her I was alive, but the message never went through. She was pissed, but we got past it because I had wanted her to know I was alive, I hadn't really betrayed her," he paused as Bailey took in the information, "Seven months ago I got deployed to Iraq on a black ops mission. A week or so in I had to fake my death again, this time I couldn't tell her. I had no idea she was pregnant, I was gone for so long. I tried to warn her but she didn't understand. Her friends say she took my death really badly, so when she found out, today, that I am alive, well she considers it a huge betrayal of her trust, of everything I've ever promised her. I hurt her really bad, but I never wanted to," he spoke softly now, his words tinged with regret, "After everything I've put her through I probably deserve it if she never speaks to me again."

Bailey's mouth hung open just for a second before she snapped back to reality. She batted Booth in the shoulder, "Don't be stupid."

"Ow…"

"You may have left her but it wasn't your choice. She's got to understand that. You have every right to see that baby and explain things to her."

He gave an ironic laugh as he pointed to his eye, "Bones already gave me this, what do you think she's going to do if I try to explain again? Besides, she won't listen."

The surgeon regarded him for a moment before replying, "Do you love her?"

Booth met her gaze, "With all my heart."

"Then it's worth trying again."

He nodded slowly as Bailey rose from her seat, "I'm going to check on her, I'll come get you in a bit, alright?"

Booth stood to see her go, "Thank you," he said.

Bailey smiled back.

________________________________________________________________________

As promised, Bailey came back for Booth and led him to Brennan's room.

"She woke up once about half an hour ago, but she was still groggy from the anesthetic. The drugs should wear off soon, so she should be waking up again shortly."

The FBI agent nodded and thanked Bailey again as he took a seat next to Brennan's bed.

Taking her hand he caressed it thinking about how peaceful she looked while sleeping.

"Bones," he began to speak softly, "I never wanted to do this to you, you've got to believe me. All I want is to be with you and the baby. Please, just believe me…"

He brought his head down to her cheek and whispered in her ear, "I love you, please forgive me."

_**To be continued…**_

_**I promise to post the next chapter a lot faster. **_

_**Like it, love it, hate it? Let me know! **_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Author's Note: **__Again, sorry for the delay in chapters. I was away for the long weekend and I have just started a new job that is keeping me very busy! I will try to update when I can with nice long chapters. _

_As always, thanks so much for the reviews and enjoy! _

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The scent hit her first; the strong antiseptic smell was harsh to her nose. Then she could feel the sheets and hear the soft beeps emitted by the heart monitor. She cracked her eyes into slits and the whiteness of the room confirmed where she was. The pain came last, a dull throbbing pain radiating from her abdomen. Closing her eyes again she leaned her head to the side, breathing in and out deeply, trying to ignore the sensation.

And when her eyes opened again, he came into view.

Asleep, nestled as uncomfortably as it looked on the chair, was Booth.

For a moment she was sure she was dead, for this couldn't be possible. Clamping her eyes shut again she counted to ten, then lifted one lid to stare at the man beside her. Booth snorted and shifted slightly. He was real.

The haze in her head was lifting, the pain becoming sharper as the drugs faded. With it came the memories of the past few hours. Booth was here, he was alive. Her hands flew to her belly, no longer rounded with child. Her movements caused her stomach to throb and she moaned aloud as she groped for the button to ring the nurse.

"Bones?" his eyes flew open in alarm. He saw what she was reaching for, grabbed it and pressed the button repeatedly, "Are you alright?" Booth's large hand took her small one and squeezed it.

"Where is the baby?" her mouth was dry, her voice low but determined.

He smiled slightly past the worry etched on his face, "In the NICU, it's a girl."

"Is she alright?"

"The doctor's say she is."

From behind him the door opened and a nurse came into the room, "Dr. Brennan, how are you feeling?"

Brennan's gaze fell from Booth's and she turned her full attention to the nurse, "Very sore."

She took her hand from his.

"Okay, I'm going to check the incision site and start you on some more pain killers then I'll get Dr. Montgomery to come and talk to you."

The nurse began to pull back Brennan's bed sheets and an uncomfortable expression crossed Booth's face. He started to get up but the nurse smiled at him.

"You can stay if you want; I'll only be a minute if it's okay with the patient."

"No."

Her voice was still shaky but her intention was clear. Booth turned to Brennan but she gave him a cold look in return.

"Bones, can we talk?" he tried softly.

The nurse tried to ignore the conversation and continued to prod at the patient. Brennan hissed as a sensitive spot was touched, "Not now," she breathed, her gaze flicked to Booth then the door.

He nodded slowly and rose from the chair. She didn't watch him as he made for the door, but when he got there he stopped, "Bones," he called.

Her icy blue eyes looked up but didn't answer.

"I'm sorry," he said as he left the room.

Frustrated, Booth walked across the hall. He rubbed his neck and then, striking out, hit the wall with the side of his fist. Cursing under his breath he proceeded to pace, his emotions stuck somewhere between frustration, sadness and anger.

_What more does she want from me? How do I get through to her? _

The thoughts plagued his mind as he prayed that she would let him talk later.

________________________________________________________________________

Not far away a familiar set of brown eyes watched him from the nursing station.

"That poor man," Bailey muttered.

Meredith Grey raised an eyebrow at her superior as she updated a chart. The surgeon turned to her as inspiration struck.

"Grey, see that man?" she pointed to Booth, "Would you take him to the NICU? Take him to see Baby Brennan."

"Sure," Meredith nodded as she put down the chart and started towards the man.

Bailey grinned as the first part of her plan was put into motion. The nurse who had attended to Brennan appeared at the station.

"Excuse me," Bailey got the nurse's attention, "Would you let me know when Dr. Montgomery is done with Dr. Brennan?"

"Of course."  
________________________________________________________________________

Meredith Grey did not know Seeley Booth but she could tell that the man was upset about something. She could tell he was tense, his gaze would flicker from one thing to another, he was worried and maybe even angry about something. She wondered if the patient he was with was alright, the baby was in the NICU, maybe he was just a very concerned father.

"Sir?" she said as she approached him.

He looked a question at her, "Yes?"

"Dr. Bailey wanted to know if you'd like to see Baby Brennan in the NICU, I can take you there if you'd like."

Some of the tension seemed to melt from his face as he nodded, "I would like that," he replied, following the doctor down the hall.

They arrived a few minutes later at the NICU and Meredith buzzed them in. She inquired about the baby's location with a nurse, and then motioned for Booth to follow her.

"There she is," Meredith cooed as she looked down at the infant.

The agent was starring at the tiny baby, his face dumbstruck, "That's her, that's my…" he couldn't bear to bring himself to say the word aloud, "She's so little."

Meredith motioned for him to come closer, "Congratulations," she grinned at him.

Booth raised his hand and laid it gently on the glass separating him from the little girl. The baby yawned and blinked her eyes in return and a large, goofy smile took over Booth's face.

"I'll let you two get acquainted," Meredith said as she slipped away.

"Hi," he breathed to the little girl, his hand resting on the glass.

"Would you like to hold her?" a NICU nurse appeared at his side and indicated that he should sit in the rocking chair.

Wrapping the baby in a pink blanket, the nurse scooped her up and brought the infant to Booth. He gingerly took the baby in his arms and cradled her softly to him.

Gazing down at the baby girl, Booth rocked gently in the chair, mesmerized by just how perfect the tiny bundle was. In the tranquility of the moment he knew that paternity no longer mattered, this was his daughter, and he was in love with her already.

"I'm going to take care of you," he whispered, "I'm going to always be here for you, I promise."

________________________________________________________________________

Dr. Montgomery had come and gone from Brennan's room, leaving the anthropologist to rest now that more pain killers had been administered. But Brennan could not sleep, she lay watching the door, trying to figure out how to handle the situation she was in.

One part of her desperately wanted to forget everything and rejoice in the fact that Booth was alive, to tell him just how much she loved him and introduce him to his daughter. Yet the other part of her screamed that he had betrayed her and could not forget the hell she had been through in the past seven months.

A knock came from her door and it cracked open. The short doctor who had received her in the emergency room appeared.

"Dr. Brennan? May I speak with you?"

"Yes," Brennan invited her in.

Bailey came into the room and took up the spot that Booth had been in.

"First of all I wanted to congratulate you on your beautiful baby girl, she's doing fine," Bailey began.

"Dr. Montgomery says I can see her in awhile. I can't wait to hold her."

The surgeon smiled, "It's the most wonderful feeling in the world. I remember holding my son for the first time, it was just incredible. I only wish my husband could have been with me when Tucker was born."

"Did you also have emergency surgery?"

"No, but my husband did. Boy did his eyes light up when he got to hold Tucker for the first time. We may have our differences but my baby is lucky to have a daddy like that."

Brennan tensed at Bailey's words, the sentiments not lost on her.

"You told me that Booth deserved to know that baby is his, doesn't your little girl also deserve to know her father?" Bailey eyed the anthropologist.

"You mean a father who didn't even know the baby existed until today?" Brennan narrowed her eyes, her voice harsh, "You have no idea what I've been through in the last seven months!"

"I have an idea, he told me a little while you were recovering."

"Did he tell you how much he hurt me? How I don't know if I could trust him again?"

"Yes."

The simple word brought Brennan to silence.

"He knows just what he did to you and he regrets it, it's really hurting him too," Bailey continued, "Now I know I can't possibly ever understand what you felt but we've all been hurt at some point by a bad guy. Men, they do stupid things, they do things that just infuriate us and can cause us so much pain. A lot of men won't recognize what they've done; there is no understanding of the emotional effects on us. There are some bad guys out there who just go on breaking hearts, but I've got to tell you Dr. Brennan, your partner is not one of them. What he did to you hurt him just as badly as it hurt you and he regrets it so much. He's torturing himself out there, going through hell worrying about you and the baby. A lot of men would walk away if they thought that baby wasn't theirs, but Booth, he's out there and he doesn't care if that's not his daughter, he's already accepted her and he's not going to just walk away. That man would give anything to just be with you right now and I promise you, he is not ever going to leave you again, he never wanted to in the first place. You are lucky to have a man like that Dr. Brennan and I think you should give him a chance."

Her words had an impact because Brennan turned away, her eyes glossed over with unshed tears.

"Just talk to him, that's all I'm asking," Bailey finished, "Will you do it?"

She knew Booth wouldn't leave without explaining and that he also deserved a chance to explain. Her daughter deserved a father, despite what may have happened.

A tear ran down Brennan's cheek as she turned back to Bailey, "I'll do it," she replied.

_**To be continued…**_

_**Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know! **_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Author's Note: **__I hadn't forgotten about this story and I apologize profusely for the delay in posting this final chapter. My new job has me at a computer all day, so when I get home the last thing I want to do is look at a screen again. Had to wait until the weekend to finally get to this, but now its done and I hope everyone likes it. I tried to keep Brennan true to her character, especially based on what we heard from Cam and Sweets in the season premiere, which was awesome! Thanks again for all the lovely reviews! So now I present to you the last chapter and as always, enjoy! _

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The pain killers had allowed her to sleep; if they hadn't been administered she knew she would have been restless, unable to doze after what Dr. Bailey had told her. Yet even as she woke from the drug induced sleep, she could sense him in the doorway. He leaned against the frame, watching her like he had so many times before in her office doorway. Their eyes met and she kept silent, giving him the opportunity to speak.

"I missed you so much," he began, still propped against the door, "Every night I would look at your picture, I kept it in my pocket, here," he placed his hand over his heart.

"Seeing your face, it kept me going, gave me a reason to move forward every day because I knew that each day brought me one step closer to coming home to you. That's all I ever wanted to do was come home, I honestly thought our mission would only last a week, maybe three at the most. I hated that it dragged on because it was keeping me from you."

He moved further into the room now, holding her gaze the entire time, "I never wanted to hurt you Bones, it killed me to do this, and I tried to get out of it. If I had known you were pregnant I would have come home no matter what the consequences," he had reached the chair beside her bed and lowered himself onto it.

"This will be one of the biggest regrets in my life now, not being there when you needed me the most. But you have to believe me when I say I'll never leave you or that baby ever again, that I'm going to be there for both of you from now on."

Her eyes dropped to her hands, her voice quiet, "Did you know what you had to do before you left?"

Wincing at the memory he nodded slowly, "Yes."

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she turned to him, "Then how could you make that promise to me? How could you tell me you were coming home when you knew what you had to do?" She was angry now, her tone got harsher, "You promised me Booth, you promised me that you would inform me next time you had to die," she air quoted the word, "You promised you'd never betray me, that you'd come home to me. How can I ever believe anything you promise me again?"

Each word felt like a knife to his heart, "Bones," he exhaled, trying to find the right thing to say.

"You want me to trust you Booth, but you've broken every vow you've made me!"

Harsh brown eyes met blue, "I was forced to betray you but I never broke my promises to you," it was his turn for his voice to be low, angered.

She gaped at him but he forged on.

"I couldn't tell you that they were going to fake my death, it would have put you, Parker and everyone else I know and love in danger. Bones, if I had told you and any of the enemies found out who I was, that I was alive, they could have contacted their informants here and done something horrible. I was not about to put anyone, especially you into that kind of danger. I had to lie to keep you safe."

He took a breath and then reached for her hand. This time she did not pull away.

"Bones, do you remember that last night I spoke to you on the phone?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember what I told you? That I wouldn't be able to talk to you for awhile, that I wanted you to remember what I promised you?"

Brennan nodded.

"I wanted to tell you so badly, but that's all I could say. I tried to warn you the best I could."  
He squeezed her hand, "Temperance," he used her first name for emphasis, "I never broke my promise to you. I knew I was coming home no matter how long it took and I wanted you to know that. You can always trust me because I will never break any promise I make to you."

Booth reached out and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks but she moved her head, her red eyes meeting his.

"But you left me Booth and it nearly broke me. I never want to feel that way again. If we had never done what we did before you left, if we had stayed just partners, I would have been okay. I would have been able to live without you, to move on, but I couldn't, not for awhile. The only thing that kept me going was the baby, if it wasn't for her…" she shook her head, "I don't know if I can do this Booth, get close to you all over again because when you died," she swiped at the fresh tears in her eyes, "The pain was unbearable and I'm afraid that if you leave me again I won't be able to handle it."

His mouth gaped open; the words came slowly, "Are you saying you regret what we did before I left?"

She swiped at the tears on her face, "Yes," his heart sank, it showed on his face, "No," she quickly added, "Booth, I…I regret letting you get so close knowing that you were leaving. I regret that I wasn't able to emotionally distance myself from your death because of that night. Do you understand?"

"No."

Her eyebrow rose and she opened her mouth to protest but he forged on.

"I don't understand why you would regret emotionally bonding with someone Bones. You can't go through life cut off from the rest of humanity, it's not right. You can't emotionally distance yourself; it's not healthy, being human means having emotions, even if you can't always control them. I know your parents left you, but your father came back and look at the relationship you have with him now. You need these connections Bones and I know you are afraid of what you felt after I left but I won't let that happen again for a long time. I want that bond we had, that we still have. If I use your logic it means that you shouldn't get close to anyone because there is always a chance you may lose them. Is that what you're going to teach your daughter? Are you going to teach her that she shouldn't have close friends or family because they might leave her? Does that mean that you won't bond with her either, because God forbid, you might lose her too? Tragic events happen Bones, people die, people leave us, but you have to cherish the time you have with them, not count the days till they're gone. Your little girl needs to know that Bones, whether or not you believe it, and I sure as hell will teach her that by being there for her, even if I'm not her father."

He stared at her wanting his words to sink in and she gazed back with glossy eyes.

Finally she whispered, "You are her father Booth and I want you to be there for her. She deserves you."

A ghost of a smile graced his mouth as she acknowledged his paternity.

"You deserve to be loved and cherished as well Bones. I don't know what it will take to earn back your trust but I will do anything to get it back. You and the baby, you mean the world to me and I never want to leave either of you again."

Gingerly she took his hand and ran her thumb along his knuckles, "I could never distance myself from her Booth and therefore I can never fully distance myself from you because you are a part of her and she is a part of me. Despite what I think we will always be connected and I want that. You were never really gone because when she was in me, you were still with me. If you ever leave me again I will fall apart and I don't know how I'll make it back again, but for now I want you to stay. It will take time but I want to trust you again because I need you in my life. Maybe that's why I'm scared, because I need you and I'm not used to needing anyone but myself."

He closed his fingers over hers, "It's okay to need someone Bones, everyone does. I need you."

"You do?"

Raising her small hand he kissed it, "More than anything in the world," he drew delicate circles in the palm of her hand as he gazed at her, "And if you will try to trust me again, then that's all I'll ask of you."

"I'll try."

________________________________________________________________________

Booth angled Brennan's wheelchair so she had a clear view of her newborn baby girl. He watched her blue eyes sparkle as she placed her hand in the same spot he had, over the glass separating her from the infant. The same nurse came by with a pink blanket and gently placed the baby into its mother's arms.

Brennan wrapped her arms around their daughter and to him, they looked like two angels.

"She's beautiful," his partner whispered, while rocking the baby slowly.

"Did you pick a name?"

She gazed at the baby and then brought her eyes to his, "I want to call her Christine, after my mother."

"That's perfect," he agreed as he knelt down beside the rocking chair, "Christine Brennan," he repeated.

Her hand that had been stroking the baby's cheek found his, "No, Christine Brennan-Booth, for both of us."

Brown eyes misted over at her words as he squeezed her hand. This was truly heaven, even if they had gone through hell to find it.

**The End**


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